The Stag and the Wolf

My breath came out like puffs of smoke freezing almost instantly in the cold winter air. I can no longer feel the tip of my nose nor can I feel my toes but I continue to wait and watch. While the sun is still high I entertain myself by watching the sunlight shimmer and dance atop the pond’s frozen surface while my finger begins to tap restlessly. Hours go by or maybe it is years. I am so cold that I can no longer understand the concept of time nor do I care. Before long the sun starts to sink behind the trees but I do not move from my perch. I continue to watch and wait.

I can hear foxes darting across the forest floor, their tiny paws crunching softly in the ice and snow. I know the stag will show himself soon. He always shows himself to me, unafraid of the rifle in my hand, as if he does not deem me a threat. I have seen him many times now, his beautiful white fur matching his magnificent ivory colored antlers. And every time he appears his beauty stuns me momentarily while my finger rests on the trigger. I can never seem to pull the trigger, and when I look again he is gone.

Today will be different.

A twig snaps nearby and I become instantly alert. I hold my breath as my eyes scan the snowy tree line. He is here. I can feel it in my bones that are now hollow with cold. The sound of snow crunching echoes through the small clearing and then the stag appears moving lazily as he grazes upon blades of grass hidden beneath snow.

I exhale as I raise my Winchester and ready my aim. The stag knows I am here. He always knows but he does not care. I grit my teeth, annoyed that this creature can affect me so. I am the hunter I tell myself. I am the one that holds his fate in my hands but this creature does not fear me. I gently squeeze the trigger but a terrifying growl halts my finger. The sound raises the hackles on the back of my neck and I shudder. A small grey wolf emerges into the clearing advancing slowly toward the stag. The wolf is skinny and judging by his size he is still young, probably separated from his pack. One thing is clear to me when I see the desperation in the wolf’s eyes, he is hungry.

The stag grunts in annoyance that the wolf has so rudely interrupted his grazing. When the wolf steps closer the stag stamps his hooves in warning but the wolf is unbothered. I watch in astonishment unsure if I should intervene. I could shoot the wolf but I might miss. I don’t shoot at an animal unless I am sure I can kill in one shot. I have always believed that making an animal suffer was vile and cruel. I feel sorry for the desperate wolf who is simply trying to survive in a harsh world that could care less if he lived or died.

The wolf pounces so quickly that I am sure the stag is a goner, but the stag is a fighter. He uses his large antlers as a shield blocking the attack. The wolf snaps his teeth as he circles the stag looking for an opening. The stag moves with the wolf, their movements look almost like a dance. A dance of life and death. Their steps are graceful but one misstep can turn lethal in an instant.

The wolf lunges again but the stag anticipated this as he thrusts his antlers into the wolf’s side. The wolf yelps in pain from the impact. He is now limping but he is desperate and he is hungry so he attacks again. The stag charges, surprising the wolf momentarily which gives the stag all the time he needs. The stag hits the wolf with such force that the wolf is lifted into the air before being slammed into a tree trunk. There was a sickening crunch upon impact and the wolf fell limply to the ground. The wolf is silent and I am sure he must be dead or soon will be. He fought in the battle of survival but lost.

The stag stamps the ground, breathing hard as steam billows from his proud nostrils. He raises his head and then he meets my gaze, remembering that I lurk nearby. He does not run, instead he stares at me unflinchingly. He is not anyone’s prey and his eyes seem to tell me so. When I do not move, instead lowering my rifle, the stag seems satisfied and disappears into the forest.

I sit motionless for several minutes staring after the stag before I stand and slip my weapon over my shoulder. I turn to go, but my feet lead me to where the wolf lays in the snow. His breaths are shallow but he is alive. What a pitiful creature I think as I unsheathe my hunting knife. He should not have to suffer when he fought so hard to survive. I move closer and the wolf senses me, cracking one eye open in response. We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. He is not afraid but he knows he cannot change his fate so he waits for me to end his life.

Something in me stirs as my emotions surge and threaten to swallow me whole. I pity this beast who is alone in the world. Maybe it’s because I, too, am alone in this world just trying to survive. Whatever the reason I know that I cannot end his life.

I put my knife away all the while the wolf watches me curiously. I kneel in the snow mere inches from the wolf. “Fate is cruel,” I say sadly. The wolf makes a slight movement with his head as if nodding in agreement. I reach out slowly so I don’t startle him before scooping him gently into my arms. The wolf lets out a strained growl but he does not fight me.

I carry the wolf through the forest and when we reach home I set him down before the fireplace. Once the wolf is warm he sighs happily and soon falls asleep. I set to work binding his leg and broken ribs. He would not have died from his injuries alone but being unable to walk he would have perished in the snow. While he sleeps I skin and clean a rabbit that I had shot earlier that day. The meat is fresh and I cut it into small pieces before straining some bone broth into a wooden bowl. When the wolf awakens he will find his dinner waiting for him.

Weeks pass and when the wolf can finally walk again the door is already open so he can return to the forest. I watch him go and realize I will miss him. My home already feels lonely without his presence. The next day I found a dead rabbit waiting for me on my doorstep.

In the years that go by I sometimes glimpse the wolf hiding among the tree line near my home but he does not show himself to me again. It does not matter because I know he is out there as we both just try to survive and escape fate’s clutches.

I no longer search for the stag.